


baby, lock them doors and turn the lights down low

by novrik



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A little crack?, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Party, Established Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Lighthearted, M/M, Minor Allura/Romelle (Voltron), No Sex, an incident happens, kind of ooc lol, no angst whatsoever, nothing bad trust me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 21:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17251385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novrik/pseuds/novrik
Summary: Allura and Lotor are throwing a Christmas party post exam season. Keith is not excited to go. Lance is very excited to go.





	baby, lock them doors and turn the lights down low

**Author's Note:**

> tw// alcohol. mentions of sex. 
> 
> this is late but better late than never amirite????
> 
> keith and lance's characters.......lance is probably way more in character than keith is. this was meant to be lighthearted so no angst!!!!! keith is a happy boi w older brothers shiro and adam. also lotor's a nice guy bc he didn't deserve to be treated like shit.
> 
> also i don't even fucking get to the party until like 3k in oops:(
> 
> sorry not sorry for fic title.

“Oh fuck no. Absolutely not,” Keith says, voice resolute.

 

“Aw, c’mon, lil bro,” Shiro pleads. “It’s just one party. Exams will be over and there’s no reason to be cooped up with only Adam and me. I want you to go socialize. Just for a bit. If not for me, you should go for Romelle.”

 

Keith groans because Shiro’s got him. Of course he would go for Romelle. Of course he would go for his best friend who’s got it extremely bad for the very, very pretty host of said party. It’s disaster mlm and wlw solidarity. What kind of friend is he if he’s not there to help out Romelle?

 

“Fine,” Keith accepts flatly. His eyes close to slits. “Just know that we are both disasters and most likely something is bound to go wrong.”

 

Shiro, very much used to his brother’s antics, just laughs and pats his shoulder. “Right, right. I think we both know who’s the real disaster gay around here.”

 

Adam walks through the kitchen door at that very moment. “Ah yes, Takashi Shirogane, so much of a disaster gay that he said  _ thanks _ when I asked him out.”

 

Shiro pouts at his fiance. “Aw babe, please. You’re still mad about that?”

 

“How could I ever be mad at you?” Adam coos and pulls Shiro in for a kiss.

 

Keith gags in the background, clearly expressing his distaste for the happy couple.

 

Shiro flips him the bird. Adam breaks apart to pinch Keith’s cheeks. “Ah, there’s my favorite child. What’s Shiro gotten you to do now?”

 

“He insists I go to a party,” Keith bemoans in a particularly terrible posh accent, dramatically falling to the ground.

 

“Takashi, dear!” Adam says in an overly scandalized tone. “You know our son doesn’t like parties. How could you ask him the impossible? And me? You know I can’t bear to be apart from our son. I would like for him to stay home for the entirety of the holidays so I can coddle him all I want.”

 

“Adam, you are the only one I can trust in this house,” Keith says solemnly. They embrace with all the emotion of Broadway actors.

 

“Okay, but seriously,” Keith whispers, like an aside, “would you really coddle me all break long? That sounds pretty good, not gonna lie.”

 

Shiro, watching his fiance and brother be overly dramatic for no other reason than to piss him off, sighed loudly and rubs a tired hand over his face.

 

“Depends on what Takashi wants you to go the party for,” Adam replies, breaking character.

 

“To  _ socialize. _ Maybe even meet someone,” Shiro points out with a smirk.

 

Adam peers at Keith through his glasses. “He has a point.”

 

“You’re supposed to be on my side, Adam.”

 

“And I am! But,” Adam pauses here, “as your father, I think it’d be good for you to meet someone.”

 

Keith grumbles and hides his face in his hands. He (slowly) rolls away from Adam along the kitchen floor.

 

Shiro leans against the wall with a raised eyebrow. “And you’re definitely going to go to support Romelle in her romantic endeavors.”

 

“Oh my god, who even says endeavors.” Keith rolls his eyes.

 

“Is it the Allura girl?” Adam mentions, smirking.

 

There’s a muffled ‘yes’ from Keith.

 

“Well, you can’t just leave Romelle to dry now can you?”

 

Keith picks himself up from the floor and dusts himself off. He pointedly glares at both Adam and Shiro.

 

“I am aware,” he replies drily. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’ll go and inform Romelle of this new development.”

 

The engaged pair watches him leave the kitchen while Adam puts on his theatrics again. “My son, acting out! He’s no longer a little baby bird. He’ll be leaving the nest soon. Oh no, Takashi dear! What ever shall we do?”

 

Takashi presses his lips into a thin line, very unamused with Adam’s flair for the dramatics.

 

“Why am I marrying you again?” he questions out loud.

 

“Because you love me,” Adam responds, smirk wide across his face.

 

“Right, right. Because I love you.” Shiro laughs and pulls up Adam from the kitchen floor for another kiss.

 

In Keith’s room, he’s furiously texting away with Romelle.

 

_ [Keith 2:53 pm]  _ k well i’m going to that dumb party or whatever

_ [Romelle 2:53 pm]  _ omFG??? SRSLY??? ty so much i love u dude

_ [Keith 2:54 pm] _ smhhhhh this better b worth it. u Are going to get the girl

_ [Romelle 2:54 pm] _ shhhhhh be quiet

_ [Keith 2:54 pm]  _ oh my god ur blushing aren’t u

_ [Romelle 2:55 pm]  _ weLL IM SURE THERE’LL B CUTE BOYS THERE ;))

_ [Keith 2:56 pm] _ goodbye romelle.

 

Keith leaves his phone on his desk, falling back onto his bed. He clutches his pillow and stares at his ceiling fan. Oh fuckkkkkKKKKKkkkkkKKkkKKKKk. Just what has he gotten himself to? His mind runs through the millions of possibilities that could occur at the party.

 

Would James Griffin be there? No way because he’s pretty sure both Lotor and Allura hate him. And if he was there, Keith wouldn’t care about getting kicked out for starting a fight. What if he… embarrassed himself? Fuck, that’d be bad.

 

Wait. If everyone’s drunk off their ass, it’s not gonna matter. Okay, okay new plan: one, get Romelle a date with Allura; two, get fucking wASTED (ayeeee let’s gET IT).

 

(and three, his mind whispers to him, find a cute boy and jump his pants).

 

Keith swallows the thought and pretends it never popped up in his mind. Ignoring that, it’s a good plan, right? There’s no way things can go wrong. Keith is satisfied and closes his eyes for a nap. He falls asleep dreaming of brown eyed boys with cheeky smiles and broad shoulders.

 

:>

 

“Lance, you’re still coming to my party right?”

 

He snickers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. If you and Lotor and throwing one, it’s bound to be good. Besides, how could I miss seeing you stutter around Romelle?”

 

“Lance!” Allura sounds scandalized over the phone. “She is–! We’re just–! I do not–!”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say,” Lance says, cutting her off with a laugh. “Because you two are definitely just  _ friends _ and you definitely do  _ not _ like her like that. Relax, Allura. It’ll be fine. You’ve got Lotor and me to be your wingmen. Nothing can go wrong.”

 

“I’m going to take your word for it.” Lance can her sigh over the line. “Alright, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see you, Hunk, and Pidge soon then.”

 

“Take it easy, Princess. I’ll see you around.”

 

Lance ends the call and checks the time. Ah shit. His break is over. Lance shoves his phone into his back pocket and quickly ties his apron on again. 

 

He closes the ‘EMPLOYEE ONLY’ door behind him and steps into the warmth of the coffee shop. Deep breath (mmmm brEaD smell) and Lance puts on his best customer service smile. He’s just in time for Florona’s shift is over. He takes her place at the register and begins to take orders.

 

It’s ann hour until closing time. Okay, okay, he can do this. Hunk has left him some sweet bread and an iced latte (caramel). Aww buddy. Lance pretends to wipe a tear when he sees it. Hunk is the best <3\. Lance’s uwus? Stolen, by Hunk.

 

He’s scarfed down like half the pastry when the door jingles open. Ah shit. Lance hurriedly swallows down the bite in his mouth, praying there’s not pieces stuck between his teeth.

 

Lance shakes his head and looks to the customer. The guy walking through the door is very handsome like he’s an asian Adonis. His shoulder to waist ratio? Chef’s kiss because  _ holy shit _ . Lance can feel himself internally sweating. Whew, he wishes his body looked like that.

 

“Sorry, I know you’re closing soon but my family are all disaster gays who need their coffee,” Shiro apologetically starts off.

 

Lance relaxes and lets out a bark of laughter. “Let me guess, iced coffees all around? I would know because I’ve got one too.”

 

“Oh check that, a tea for me. I’m too old for coffee in the evening, much less an iced coffee. I’ll have a  medium green tea, hot. An iced vanilla latte for my fiance Adam, medium sized, and uh, an iced caramel latte for my little brother Keith. Large because god knows he needs it.”

 

“Fiance, huh?” Lance grins and raises an eyebrow at the man. Small talk with customers nearing closing time was always fun. Lance always felt like he could get to know people a lot better when it wasn’t rush hour. “When’s the wedding?”

 

Shiro smiles back. “Oh sorry, can’t help but show him off. I tend to go on and on about him but the wedding’s not supposed to happen for another couple of months. Adam wants a late spring wedding and well, who am I to deny him that?”

 

Cute. Cute.  _ Very  _ cute. Lance definitely wants that in his future. Fiance who he’d give the world to (empty check box).

 

“Your total is $12.36. Just insert the chip in right there.” Lance points to the chip reader. “And I think that’s very adorable. I don’t know that many older gay couples and it’s nice to see there are people like me around here.”

 

“I’m gonna take it you’re bi?” Shiro replies with a smile, eyeing the bi pride flag pin on Lance’s apron.

 

“Nice guess,” Lance says with an even wider grin. “You can take a seat at the counter while I get your drinks. Can I ask whose last name you guys are taking?”

 

Shiro stares at him with this haunted look in his eyes as he takes a seat at the counter.

 

“Ooh, touchy subject I’m guessing? Hmm, you two are going for hyphenated but can’t decide which one goes first.”

 

Shiro looks a lot like that surprised pikachu meme right now. Lance snickers as he sets the tea to steep and the coffee to brew.

 

“How did you guess that?” says Shiro incredulously.

 

“My sister had a similar problem,” Lance mentions and pours the tea into an insulated cup. He caps it and slides it over to Shiro.

 

“Oh uh, forgot to say earlier but my brother, Keith, is lactose intolerant. Can you give him almond milk?” Shiro asks.

 

“Yeah, yeah sure. You’re in luck. There’s just enough left for a large. It’s on the house.” Lance waves off the dollar bill in Shiro’s outstretched arm.

 

“So did your sister ever resolve her last name issue?” Shiro reverts back to the conversation at hand.

 

“Oh yeah. She and Axca turned to me and asked for my opinion. And now currently, Ronnie and Axca are very happy together. Their last name? Kita-McClain.”

 

“How did you do it?”

 

Lance looks at him, face turning into something deadly serious. “You really wanna know?”

 

Shiro is more than curious. He nods his head.

 

“I made them play rock paper scissors,” Lance whispers, lips stretching into a smirk.

 

Shiro groans. Lance laughs louder.

 

“My brother said the same thing,” Shiro explains. “He says it doesn’t matter if it’s Wadhwa-Shirogane or Shirogane-Wadhwa and quote on quote, ‘just battle it out by rock paper scissors.’ Little shit.”

 

Lance stops pouring the coffee into the cup. “Wait. Adam. Wadhwa. You mean like Professor Wadhwa who teaches physics at the Garrison?”

 

“That’s the one, yeah. Why?” Shiro asks back, eyebrows raised.

 

“Ohmigosh, I can’t believe  _ you’re _ his fiance. Holy shit,” Lance comments, mouth open.

 

“Is there something wrong?” Shiro defensively asks.

 

“No, no,” Lance says with a shake of his head. “It’s just that, Professor Wadhwa talks about you like… you’re a god or something.”

 

Shiro turns pink. “O-oh. I… had no idea.”

 

It’s Lance’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “But he also says you’re a disaster and can’t do anything without him.”

 

Shiro laughs. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

 

“You should probably go with Wadhwa–Shirogane,” Lance says, pushing the iced coffees over in a tray. “If I know anything about Professor Wadhwa, I know that’s what he wants.”

 

Shiro looks at what Lance had written on Adam’s cup: from your favorite student!! (heart) (heart). “Favorite student huh?” Shiro looks up at Lance with a grin.

 

Said student shrugs. “What can I say? I happen to be very good at physics.”

 

“Now, that little brother of yours. How old is he, is he single, and is he cute?” Lance questions, cocky tone to his voice.

 

“He’s definitely cute. If you’re into broody, emo boys, that is.” Shiro switches it around. “Are you going to that party the Allura girl is throwing?”

 

Lance nods, wondering where Shiro was going with this and the older man puts on a knowing smile.

 

“Then you’ll see him there. When you do, tell him ‘you’re welcome’ from me. Have a good night Lance.” Shiro gives him a wave as he exits the coffee shop, drink tray in hand.

 

Lance waves back, thoughts tumbling all around his mind. Okay, so there’s gonna be a cute boy there. Check. Shiro (a trustworthy person) can vouch for this cute boy. Check. Looks like he’s just gotta bring his A-game to the party. He’s yet to check that box off. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcool. He’s got this. He’s  _ got _ this.

 

Lance whips his phone out to text the groupchat.

 

_ the yeehaw bois (cowboy emoji) (cowboy emoji) _

_ [Lance 7:54 pm] _ i’ve got news for u all

_ [Hunk 7:55 pm] _ what’s up

_ [Lance 7:55 pm] _ one, i kno who prof W is marrying and two, i bring word that a cute boy is going to allura’s party

_ [Pidge 7:56 pm]  _ YOU KNOW WHO PROF W IS MARRYING??

_ [Hunk 7:56 pm]  _ YEAH WHAT??????

_ [Lance 7:56 pm] _ loool i just served him coffee.

_ [Lance 7:56 pm] _ he’s a chill guy. perfectly prof w’s type. i definitely see why he’s getting married to that guy

_ [Lance 7:57 pm] _ also cute boy is his little brother >:)

_ [Hunk 7:57 pm] _ lance…

_ [Pidge 7:57 pm]  _ smh doesn’t that mean prof w is this guys older brother too?? lance ur going to Die

_ [Lance 7:57 pm] _ for a cute boy i’ll take on prof w. i have shiro’s blessing anyway smhhhh

_ [Pidge 7:58 pm] _ aight man, whatever floats ur boat ig

_ [Hunk 7:58 pm] _ i’ll b here praying for u buddy

_ [Lance 7:58 pm] _ ty bro. this is why ur the only for me (pensive emoji) (pensive emoji)

_ [Pidge 7:59 pm] _ .

_ [Lance 7:59 pm] _ sticks tongue out at you

_ [Pidge 8:00 pm]  _ (middle finger emoji)

 

:>

 

T-minus three hours until the party. Lance cannot decide on an outfit for the love of all things good. (He’s trying to dress to  _ impress _ ). He stands in front of the mirror, arms crossed and current outfit under scrutiny. He’s thrown on a pair of ripped, black jeans (at the knees and thighs) paired with a dark red (essentially maroon) scoop neck long sleeved shirt. He’s tucked the shirt in and looped his belt around his waist and okay! okay! He can work with this. Lance turns to his side. Ass: cute; legs: stretch for dayz; shoulders: broad af. And his waist? Fucking snatched laid ease. 

 

Now he searches for a jacket. Not a black one because it doesn’t vibe with the holiday spirit at all. A colored jacket would clash with his shirt so he moves on. Ah there it is. A perfectly crisp, white bomber jacket. Lance throws a wink in the mirror. (looking good man;)). 

 

“Yo Hunk!” Lance calls out into the apartment.

 

“Yeah buddy?” Hunk responds, poking his head into Lance’s room.

 

“How do I look?” Lance asks, giving a little spin.

 

Hunk smiles graciously. “You look good man. You’ve got like, uh–” Hunk looks at his phone to check the time. “Like a little over two and a half hours to do your makeup and shit.”

 

“Oh, nice. How are the cookies going?”

 

“Good. They should be done any minute now and then I’ll start icing them. I’m gonna go wake up Pidge now.”

 

Lance wrinkles his nose. “Oh yeah. You should get her to take a shower, yeah? I think she knocked out at like 6 in the morning today.”

 

Hunk gives a shake of head and loudly sighs. “I tell her all the time to sleep reasonably but does she listen to me? Never.”

 

Lance snickers. All right, time to beat his face to perfection. Lance leaves his jacket on his bed and opens the door to his private bathroom.

 

He stands in front of his mirror, beginning with skincare as all good children should. Lance wets his beauty blender and starts to dab foundation onto his face. It blends in smoothly (his shade is Matched, thank you Rihanna and Fenty Beauty). On goes concealer and then some translucent powder to set it all. Next item on the list: eyebrows. Lance expertly wields his angled brush and his well used Anastasia dipbrow pomade (shade being soft brown). He quickly contours his face, bringing out his cheekbones and jawline and nose. Highlight can wait (that bitch is going to be Poppin’).

 

Onto the main focus, Lance primes his lids and then sets them with a light tan eyeshadow. He begins to blend soft reds into his crease and increasingly deepens the intensity. Lance cuts his crease with a concealer and packs on the gold glitter. Wow wow wooowwww. Damnnnnnn okay, okay! Lance smirks at himself in the mirror. He finishes up his eye makeup with an inner corner highlight, sharp ass black liner, and a pair of falsies (not mink, we do Not support animal cruelty in this house). Lance then highlights his face with a warm gold along his cheekbones, nose, forehead, cupid’s bow, and chin. Lance swipes some pinkish gloss across his lips and at long last, he’s finished his makeup.

 

To tie the whole look together, Lance loops his black choker with the celestial ornaments around his neck; silver stars dangle from his ears (to keep with the celestial theme) and gold hoops adorn his helix; Lance’s silver band is already being worn but he slips on a few of his more intricate rings.

 

Lance cleans up his bathroom, turns off the light, slips on his jacket from his bed and leaves his room. He walks into the apartment kitchen and takes in a deep, deep whiff. Oh god, he’s in heaven. The scent of cinnamon and caramel permeates deeply into the air. Lance swears he can just eat it.

 

“Hunk, you are a god amongst men,” Lance graciously compliments while reaching over to take a cookie.

 

Hunk gently slaps his hand away. “Thank you Lance. And no you cannot have one. These are for the party remember?”

 

“Party, schmarty. We’re going there anyway! Just one please?” Lance pleads and pulls out the puppy dog eyes.

 

Hunk immediately whips his head to the side, stealing glances from the corner of his eye. “Goddammit Lance. You’re in a full face of makeup. How are your puppy eyes still so effective?”

 

“So, can I have a cookie?” Lance grins.

 

“Ugh, go take one from the reject pile,” Hunk lovingly groans.

 

“Reject pile?” Lance excitedly repeats, voice going up in pitch.

 

“You would know Hunk made a reject pile if you didn’t spend so much time getting ready,” Pidge points out snarkily and grabs some from aforementioned pile.

 

“Oh geez, you’re wearing that?” Lance raises an eyebrow at Pidge’s outfit.

 

“Do you really think Allura would kick me out for wearing a hoodie and Adidas joggers?” Pidge retorts  back.

 

Lance sighs in defeat. “No, you’re right.”

 

“Help me pack these cookies guys. We’ve got like twenty minutes before we need to leave,” Hunk cuts in.

 

“You’re the man,” Lance says with a shrug. He shoves a rejected cookie into his mouth (ooh fuck, foodgasm right there) and helps Hunk pack cookies. With all three of them working together, the hundreds of cookies are quickly packed into containers ready to be served at the party. Pidge takes them down to the car while Hunk and Lance set up the coolers.

 

Allura had asked them to bring the non alcoholic drinks plus Lance had made  _ flan. _ In the water and sodas go, shoved between chunks of ice, while Lance gently sets the (large) containers of flan down and piles some ice on top. He closes the cooler lid and motions for Hunk to bring it away.

 

Close the blinds, turn off lights and kitchen appliances, okay they are ready to go. Door is locked, alarm is set, and Lance makes his way to the car in the parking lot. Hunk is already seated up front and Pidge is in the back. Twirling his keys, Lance grins widely as he gets comfortable in his car.

 

“Sooooooo,” Lance starts off. “Who’s ready to get fucking wasted?”

 

“Me bitch,” Pidge answers from the back seat.

 

“You guys go on ahead. I’ll have like one drink. Not really feeling the whole ‘get wasted’ vibe tonight,” Hunk comments.

 

“Aww, that’s too bad. But if you don’t feel like it, you don’t feel like it. We can still have fun,” Lance says and softly pats Hunk’s shoulder.

 

“Okay boys! Time to forget the horror of exam week and party the night away,” Lance says loudly and begins to back out of the apartment garage.

 

(The car ride consists of Lance repeating Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” until Pidge threatens him to stop).

 

:>

 

The party is in full swing by the time Keith arrives with Romelle. There’s people doing shots in the kitchen; a group is doing karaoke; someone’s watching netflix; music is pulsing from the backyard and whew, that’s a hell lotta people.

 

Okay, ignoring the people, Keith takes in the very, very nice house that’s been decorated in accordance to the holiday season. He whistles to himself because goddamn, Allura and Lotor  _ have  _ to be loaded. Fuckin’ Brits. (They’re very nice people, just filthy rich). Romelle gives him a grin.

 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, they’re rich.”

 

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Pretty sure I could tell they were rich from listening to them talk.” He snorts. “British accent? Really?”

 

He sees the defensive look on Romelle’s face. “Oh, you think it’s attractive don’t you?” he says with a smirk.

 

“Oh be quiet,” she huffs.

 

“I mean hey,” he shrugs, “you’re from Australia so that makes you like the Texas version of England. You think she finds country hot?”

 

“Ton That Duc,” Romelle says in a threatening tone of voice. Hoo boy. Shit. Keith really should have never had taught her how to pronounce his vietnamese name. He’s going to die before he can even get his hands on a drink.

 

“Keith, if you say any fuck shit around us, you’re going to die,” she states matter of factly. “Now, why don’t we go and greet our hosts?” Romelle flashes a sweet smile and Keith just rolls his eyes.

 

Romelle grabs onto his arm and they push through the mass of people. This is supposed to be a Christmas party right? Aren’t Christmas parties supposed to be less… wild and more… elegant? Whatever, Keith muses, it’s college. He highly doubts any of these people would even know how to act proper and formal.

 

Meanwhile, Romelle is looking through the crowd in an attempt to find either of the hosts and Keith just lets himself be dragged along. Magically enough, the crowd parts. (not for them, but for Lotor).

 

He’s tall and commanding but with the grace of any noble. He’s  _ definitely _ good looking but Keith will pass. (Shiro said there was going to be a cute boy at this party and that Keith was to seek him out. fine.) 

 

“Romelle, Keith,” Lotor greets them amicably. “Allura is somewhere in the backyard I believe. Shall I go fetch her for you?”

 

Romelle flushes. “Oh it’s alright. I can go find her myself.”

 

“No, no, I insist. She’s been quite ansty waiting for your arrival,” Lotor mentions with a playful smile.

 

“That would be wonderful,” Keith interjects, smirking at Romelle. She “subtly” punches his shoulder.

 

Lotor laughs and says, “Then, I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

 

He makes his way through the crowd while Romelle and Keith watch him. Lotor isn’t gone for long and he returns shortly with Allura (and some boy) in tow.

 

“Romelle!” Allura exclaims delightedly and pulls her in for a hug. Keith smiles to himself. Looks like there really isn’t any need for him to be Romelle’s wingman. Allura looks quite smitten with her already.

 

“I’m so glad you could make it. Can I get you a drink?” Allura offers.

 

The flush stays on Romelle’s cheeks. “Y-yeah, thank you.”

 

Allura extends her arm and Romelle loops her own around, albeit shyly, and they walk together towards the kitchen.

 

“Looks like my work here is done,” the other boy says out loud.

 

“What did you even do?” Keith asks, eyebrow raised.

 

“He was the one who pushed Allura to invite Romelle,” Lotor explains.

 

“Allura better thank me when this night over,” the unnamed guy says with a frown. 

 

“Maybe you should take a break, Lance,” Lotor suggests and plucks his drink out from his hand.

 

Lance pouts and attempts to take it back. “You should help me find the boy of my dreams, Lotor.”

 

“Sorry friend,” Lotor says endearingly, “but I have guests to manage. Keith, I feel terrible for putting this on you but could you keep Lance company? Make sure he doesn’t start anything? Thank you so much.”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah. It’s not a problem,” Keith accepts, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

 

Lotor’s face lights up and he turns to Lance. “Be nice to Keith. I’ll see you guys around.” He disappears into the masses of people (despite being over six foot) to attend to his duties as host.

 

“Hmmm, Lotor’s got a nice ass,” Lance muses, watching him go.

 

Keith startles. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

 

Lance sighs. “But he’s not who I’m looking for.” He turns to face Keith.

 

(Keith hasn’t even had a drink, so why does he feel so warm?)

 

“Uh, did you need something or?”

 

Lance just gives him a grin, (brown) eyes full of something Keith can’t quite read.

 

“You’re cute. I’m digging the whole,” Lance pauses to gesture at all of Keith, “punk rock vibe going on.”

 

Keith just stands there open mouthed and terribly confused.

 

“Leather jacket,” Lance muses, feeling up Keith’s arm. Okay, is this supposed to be happening? Keith isn’t anywhere near drunk enough for this. But he doesn’t make any move for Lance to stop.

 

“Piercings,” Lance hums, trailing a finger along Keith’s ear. He is  _ so _ fucking close that Keith can feel his breath on the nape of his neck.

 

“Are you into that?” Keith asks, feeling bold despite being very much so sober, and tilts his head back to get a better look at Lance’s face. (bad idea, he’s too fucking pretty up close, bad idea).

 

Lance flutters his eyelashes up at Keith. “Very much so,” he answers with a vicious grin. “But the mullet–” and he gives a little tug at the neck long strands causing Keith to gasp “–could go.”

 

“It’s not a mullet,” Keith retorts defensively.

 

Lance gives a little shrug. “You’re still pretty so I can let it pass.”

 

He’s flabbergasted. Him pretty? Pretty?  _ Pretty. _ Keith laughs nervously. The only extremely pretty boy is calling him pretty. Rightttttt. 

 

“I think you’re much prettier than me,” Keith says quietly.

 

Lance narrows his eyes. “Says the guy with the violet eyes with perfect eyeliner and plush, pink lips.”

 

Keith really wants to take off his jacket now because his body is way too hot for this shit.

 

“For one, my brother did my eyeliner. And two, I think you’re way out of my league.”

 

Lance is quiet, eyebrows scrunched together as if he’s thinking about something.

 

“Would you describe yourself as broody and emo?” Lance asks after a long silence. 

 

Oh no. Oh fucking no. This is a joke. Please don’t tell him that the boy his brother told him to meet was  _ this _ boy. 

 

“Uh—“

 

“Your brother wouldn’t happen to be Shiro, Professor Wadhwa’s fiance, would he?” Lance continues, a triumphant grin on his lips.

 

Keith sighs. “That’s my older brother alright.”

 

Lance grins even wider. (he’s really fucking cute. this is Not good for Keith’s heart.) “He says ‘you’re welcome’ by the way.”

 

Keith rolls his eyes. “He likes to meddle in my business too much.”

 

“What if  _ I  _ wanted to meddle in your business?” Lance says casually and throws an arm around Keith, ambient lighting causing him to glow. 

 

Oh fuck it. He’s in college; this is a party. Might as well as fuck around while he’s at it.

 

“Get me a drink first and I’ll think about it,” Keith answers after leaning in close to Lance’s ear. 

 

:>

 

There are only two things Lance is aware of as of right now: one, Lance is fucking drunk off of his ass, and two, there is an extremely cute boy (also drunk) sitting in his lap.

 

“So, what do you think of the flan?”

 

“Really, really  _ creamy _ ,” Keith purrs into his ear. Not the reaction Lance was expecting but this is more than good.

 

“It’s a family recipe,” Lance explains idly.

 

Keith just hums as he traces patterns along Lance’s shirt with a finger.

 

“You know I’m actually really enjoying myself despite not wanting to go,” Keith mumbles after a few minutes.

 

Lance may be drunk but he’s still perceptive. “And why’s that?”

 

“Parties are loud. Too many people. Feels suffocating,” the boy in his lap unhappily supplies.

 

Oh no. Cute boy is sad. C’mon, c’mon, Lance. Can’t leave cute boy unhappy. Too close to the world ending.

 

Keith doesn’t stop talking though.

 

“And not gonna lie, you’re kinda loud too. But… I  _ like _ being around you. You don’t ever make me feel uncomfortable. You have this–” Keith vaguely gestures his hand in the air, “air of warmth surrounding you.” He takes a deep breath. “I feel  _ safe _ around you.”

 

Drunk Lance has a one hundred percent track record for making bad decisions. Drunk Lance always does some fuck shit, dragging Hunk and Pidge into his mistakes. 

 

But Drunk Lance knows to ask for consent.

 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers, lightly touching Keith’s cheek with his fingertips.

 

“Please,” comes Keith’s breathy answer and Lance obliges.

 

Their mouths are dry and the smell of alcohol lingers but Lance laces his fingers in Keith’s hair anyway. He feels hot; his body is burning up. Keith has looped his arms around his neck, thighs to the sides of his lap. Everything feels so goddamn  _ hot _ but Lance can’t stop kissing Keith. 

 

And–oh  _ shit. _ Keith is definitely grinding against Lance’s lap.

 

“You feel,” Keith pants, “really good.”

 

“You wanna find a hopefully empty room then?” Lance asks and moves his jaw to kiss along Keith’s face.

 

There’s a low moan and a tug on his sleeve and now they’re stumbling through people and more people just to find a room but Lance doesn’t mind the rush. The accidental elbows and shoulder shoves would be worth it if it meant being able to hear Keith all for himself.

 

A door, a door, a door. Lance hurriedly twists it open and oh good yes, there’s a bed. Keith pulls him along as Lance shuts the door and they end up falling on each other. Oh well, that just makes the process faster doesn’t it?

 

They’re leaning in for another kiss when the lamplights turn off and someone (multiple persons) screams outside. The both of them are startled and sit up in a panic.

 

Lance sobers up real quick, his first thoughts being  _ where’s Keith? _ He gropes around in the dark and his hand reaches something.

 

“That’s my ass, you dingus,” Keith hisses playfully.

 

“Hmm, nice ass. But you’re alive, good.” Lance gives a laugh. “I’ll give Allura a call and see what’s up.”

 

Lance pulls his phone from his jean pocket and asks Siri to call Allura. She picks up after the first ring.

 

“What happened?” Lance asks and puts Allura on speaker.

 

“Some fucknut decided to mess with the house’s electrical system,” Allura gripes. Her sigh is quite audible. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take to fix this problem. Stay safe wherever you are, Lance.”

 

“You too, Allura.”

 

Lance is going to disconnect the call but Romelle’s voice can be heard. “Is Keith there?”

 

Lance moves his phone closer to Keith’s direction. “Yeah, I’m fine Romelle. Go enjoy your little date with Allura.”

 

The call immediately disconnects. Keith’s only response is a snicker and Lance can’t help but laugh with.

 

They lie on the bed together in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. (Lance would prefer to staring at Keith’s face but it’s too dark for that.)

 

“Hey, uh,” Keith softly whispers. “Now that we’re both sort of sober, I just wanted to say that I  _ do _ think you’re really pretty and nice and I really like you even if we’ve only known each other for a couple of hours and–”

 

“Hey,” Lance interjects. “You don’t need to explain yourself or anything. I also think I’m very pretty and nice.”

 

“Oh fuck off Lance,” Keith snaps and rolls to face the other direction opposite from Lance.

 

“Aw c’mon, I thought we were bonding,” Lance whines, pulling Keith to face him again.

 

His eyes have adjusted to the darkness by now and Lance can sort of see Keith in the dark. Keith stares at him, face neutral but Lance is sure a smile is tugging at the corner of Keith’s lips. The violet of his eyes are really prominent in the dark and Lance brings up his hand to tuck back a strand of Keith’s hair.

 

“I like you too. A lot. You’re cute and a little shy but also very fun to be around. I don’t know but you’re so  _ intriguing _ and I really, really want to know you,” Lance murmurs.

 

“Then, what do you want to know?”

 

“You wanna play 20 questions?” Lance suggests, smiling wide.

 

They play (more than) 20 questions into the night. The conversation keeps going and going; the flow of topics never stops. (feels good, feels organic.) Lance has never been able to connect so well with anybody (romantically, Hunk is clearly his platonic soulmate) and it’s refreshing. Keith is honest and blunt with his answers, something Lance finds endearing. He also blushes really easily and Lance makes it a point to make him blush as much as possible.

 

Lance learns a lot about Keith from his answers but Lance also learns much from Keith’s body language. He’s slightly defensive, especially questions about family and his childhood, but Lance doesn’t push. Things like that will come with time.

 

It’s just, really easy to talk to Keith. Not to mention… really easy to kiss that mouth of his. (almost as if they fit like puzzle pieces. not to you know, jump to conclusions, but Lance prays to God this boy is The One). 

 

They’re still talking when the lights flicker back on.  _ All _ of the lights have turned back on, leaving the both of them in full visibility. Their hair is mussed and clothes on the brink of being disheveled and there are kiss marks all along Keith’s jaw. Lance snickers at the sight of Keith but Keith isn’t looking at him.

 

He’s looking… up?

  
There, hanging above the headboard, is mistletoe.

 

Lance is unimpressed. “We’ve already kissed.”

 

“So?” Keith challenges. 

 

“So, new tradition. Let’s eat ass under the mistletoe now,” Lance states, face completely serious.

 

“Y-you.” Keith struggles to find the words. “You’re fucking with me aren’t you?”   
  


“It’s a yes or no response, Keith.” Lance gives the other boy a shit eating grin. (pun not intended what the fuck that was not supposed to be worded like that).

 

“Kiss me first and then we’ll see,” Keith says in return, pulling Lance closer to him.

 

“Merry Christmas, Keith,” Lance whispers with a giggle. “I’m going to eat your ass. Mark my words.”

 

(Nothing happens because they pass out from exhaustion. They’re found cuddling together in the morning. They have a date planned for the next day. Lance is a lucky man. So is Keith. Shiro is very pleased with himself.)

**Author's Note:**

> if u enjoyed this leave a kudos and/or comment, i would really appreciate it heh
> 
> my [twitter](twitter.com/c9sharpshooter) (to stay updated on other fics' progress)


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